


Aloha Cowboy

by Zoelily



Series: Cockles Moments [8]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 05:35:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9705566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoelily/pseuds/Zoelily
Summary: He may not need to be on set that day, but watching Jensen ride a mechanical bull is something Misha just can't pass up.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by a couple of naughty girls in DF. I won't mention any names, but they know who they are :)
> 
> Thanks to the always awesome, Rachelladeville for the once over. Any remaining errors are mine.

As he repeated the safety instructions in his head for the third or fourth time in as many minutes, Jensen’s mind wandered back to the last time he’d done this.  He’d been twenty-two, back in Dallas for the bachelor party of a High School buddy.  They’d started off the night at the strippers, and by the time they’d torn the groom away from his tequila shots and lap dances, they’d all been three sheets to the wind.  Next stop had been the local western bar for some line dancing a ride on the bull.  Jensen had been one of the few that had lasted the full eight seconds.  Hell, he thought he’d even shown a little finesse up there, but again, he’d been young, and drunk, and pretty much invincible.  
  
Now, at closer to forty than thirty, with a wife and three kids, and a knee that played him up when it rained, and a back that protested getting out of bed more often than he’d like to admit, “Larry” was actually looking  pretty damn intimidating.  
  
Larry’s handler, Sid, or operator he guessed they were called for such things, was a decent guy.  He actually worked at the bar they were filming at and didn’t seem at all put out by a film set taking over his domain.  He’d been patient and Jensen had appreciated him taking the time to explain a little more than he would your average rider.  Jensen always felt better when he knew how things worked.  Maybe it was his inner director, or his need to have some semblance of control over the situation he was walking into.  Whatever it was, Sid recognized it for what it was and worked with it.   
  
“We’re ready when you are, Jensen,” John called from over near the bar where he’d conveniently parked his director’s chair.  
  
He inhaled deeply through his nose, still able to make out the faint stale alcohol smell that all bars have, even though the place was clean, closed, and full of equipment.  He picked his way across the lumpy, red fall mat to Sid and the bull, and clapped his hand down onto the padded saddle.  
  
‘Well, Larry…looks like it’s just you and me.  Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”  
  
“I’m good, John,” he called out, hoping his nerves didn’t show in his voice.  All he could hope for was for as few takes as possible, and no Jared.  If he could get that, he’d be laughing.  
  
He had to give the Sid credit; he started slow.  Being sober definitely helped and it didn’t take long for Jensen to build up a bit of a rhythm.  He gripped the metal handle firmly with his right hand and let his left control the motion of the rest of his body, rolling his hips with the movement of the bull.  He was able to keep himself seated, hugging the solid contraption with his thighs and the insides of his knees.  Being bow-legged had its uses on occasion.    
  
Eight seconds was over quickly and the ride stopped.  Sid suggested another round at slow before cranking up the speed.  The idea was to do the take at full speed so the editors could slow it down later and splice it for some kind of montage.  He assumed Sid must be working up to it.  
  
The second ride was even easier.  As Jensen glanced around, all eyes were on him.  The crew were always looking for something to get a chuckle out of; it was that kind of set, even on location.  There was no sign of Jared, which was a blessing in disguise.  Jensen was having a pretty good time with this actually.  He was looking forward to kicking up the speed.  As Larry slowed to a stop for the second time, Sid moved around to double check the emergency stop switch.  
  
“You ready to kick it up a notch, my friend?”  
  
Jensen laughed.  “Yup.  Let’s see what this baby can do.”  
  
He grabbed the handle, and quickly looked up to visually check in with John, and scan the room for Jared, and instead briefly locked eyes with someone he wasn’t expecting to see at all.  Misha wasn’t in this episode, so there was no reason for him to be on set.  Jensen watched for a moment while Misha tried to school his features to cover his surprise in being caught.  Jensen grinned at his friend and Misha smirked back, leaning casually against the heavy wooden door of the bar.  Apparently the fucker wasn’t planning on going anywhere.  
  
Jensen refocused on the task at hand.  He nodded down to Sid who set the lever to medium speed.  Jensen definitely noticed a difference.  It took a little more effort to get his rhythm.  He clenched his thighs tightly, feeling the burn in his muscles as he rocked his body with the motion of the bull.  He glanced up just in time to see Misha adjust his stance against the door as though he were trying to get comfortable and run his hand back through the front of his hair, giving him that sexed-out look that the fangirls drooled over.   
  
His ride only lasted a few more seconds and he barely noticed when Sid suggested one more at that speed before going up to the high speed they would film at.  Jensen was pretty sure he nodded in agreement, but he was having a little trouble paying attention.  If he were being honest, the rocking motion on certain parts of his anatomy, and the distracting presence of a certain TV angel, were making it more and more difficult to think with his upstairs brain.  
  
Jensen wasn’t sure if he took his eyes off Misha the entire next ride.  As soon as the Larry started to buck, Jensen squeezed his thighs and he felt the blood rush straight to his dick.  He hoped with the sounds the crew and the noise of the mechanics of the bull itself; no one heard the breathy moan that he was sure escaped at the intense pleasure of it.   
  
Misha noticed.  Misha knew his tells.  With every roll of Jensen’s hips, Misha would circle his, just a little, just enough that Jensen could see what he was doing.  Jensen glanced down to where Misha’s fist was clenching at his side and he was relieved to see that he wasn’t the only one who was starting to struggle.  Misha may be the one playing the game, but he wasn’t unaffected by its outcome.  
  
“Looking great, Jay!  Sid’s gonna do a run at full speed for practice and then we’re gonna try and shoot it, okay?” John called out from the bar.  “Do you need anything first?  Water maybe?”  
  
Jensen shook his head.  He just needed to get this done.  He closed his eyes and tried to settle his racing heart and will down his semi-hard cock.  He didn’t need to get himself hurt because he wasn’t paying attention.  A few deep breaths later, he let Sid know he was ready and he got himself into position.  
  
Jensen intentionally avoided looking in Misha’s direction when Sid shifted the lever to edge Larry onto high speed.  The difference was obvious but manageable.  He had to work at keeping himself seated on the bull this time, which would make the take look realistic.  When the bull slowed at the end of the eight seconds, he was hopeful they could finish in one take.  His thighs were beginning to ache from clenching, and his arm was getting tired from being held up so long.  He was reminded yet again that he was no longer twenty-two.  
  
There was some shuffling around before the next ride as the crew got ready to film.  Jensen chanced a peek at Misha and was surprised to see the man no longer there.  Deciding that was probably for the best, he centered all of his focus on getting the scene done in one take.  One of the stylists came over to brush some powder on his face and fluff up his hair.  Then, it was only a matter of minutes before the scene was called and Jensen rode his ride like the pro-Cowboy Dean would try to be.  As an afterthought, he flopped backwards as the bull slowed, knowing it would stretch his shirt across his abs and show off his belt buckle.  It seemed right in the moment, like something Dean would do.  Whether they’d use it or not, who knew.   
  
After catching his breath, Jensen rolled to the side just in time to see a mop of dark hair disappear out the door.  He kept rolling until he landed flat on his back on the safety mat that occupied the section of the bar that surrounded the mechanical bull.  
  
“Hey, John?  Am I good for a while?”  Jensen groaned, really starting to feel some muscles he didn’t know he had as he struggled to get to his feet.  
  
“For sure!  You’ve got at least a couple of hours until we need you again.  We’ve got lunch and then Jared’s coverage.  I’ll watch the time and sent one of the PA’s over when I’ve got a better estimate,” John replied, already nose deep in the script for the next scene.  
  
Jensen scrambled off the uneven mat and wandered over to the bar to grab a bottle of water.  As he walked he reached around to pull his phone out of his back pocket.  He swiped the screen and saw he had a couple of texts from Danneel just to say hi and wish him luck with Larry, a missed call from his agency, and a text from Misha.   
****  
_Your trailer – M_  
  
The last flushed look on Misha’s face, the clenched fist, the roll of his hips came flooding back and Jensen didn’t need to be told twice.  He stuffed the phone back in his pocket, took a giant swig of water, and strode purposely out towards his trailer.  
  
The man in question was sitting on the unmade bed, nose buried in something on his phone.  Jensen dropped his own phone and keys on the counter and strolled over, enjoying the indignant look on Misha’s face when he grabbed the offending phone out of his hand and pushed him backwards, easily straddling his thighs.  He held the phone high up in the air, out of Misha’s reach.  
  
“Oh my God, Jen.  I’ve seen you in that exact position so many times today,” Misha teased, clearly enjoying the view of Jensen in such a familiar pose.  “Thighs clenched, arm in the air showing off the lines of your body.  I swear you were just doing it to make me crazy.”  He punched the last few words with a slight roll of his hips, apparently just to make his point.  
  
Misha’s tone had changed from light and teasing to suggestive and heated.  Jensen tossed the phone to the side and leaned down to bracket Misha’s head with his arms.  
  
 “Well, I would say I did it all for you, Dmitri, but since you weren’t supposed to be on set today…”  Jensen’s train of thought was interrupted when Misha swallowed, highlighting his unshaven jaw. Inhaling Misha’s scent as he leaned in, Jensen relished the feel of Misha’s whiskers tickling his chin and cheeks.  He nipped and licked his way around the shell of Misha’s ear and then down the side of his neck to where his shirt collar halted his progress.  Sitting back up, he worked the buttons on Misha’s shirt, reclaiming a little of his power of speech as he did so.  
  
“So, yeah.  Uh, why are you here anyway?”  
  
Misha’s breaths grew shorter as Jensen’s feather light touches flicked his shirt buttons open.  “Uh, needed to drop some Nexus paperwork off at the border. Figured I’d stop by and see you.”  
  
Jensen pressed the heel of his palm into the expanse of Misha’s exposed chest.  “And you just happened to have to do this today?”  His hands moved on their own accord now, smoothing up over Misha’s shoulders and pushing the shirt out of the way as much as was possible with Misha still flat on his back.  
  
Misha must’ve decided to help things along, impatience getting the best of him, because without warning he bucked his hips wildly, catching Jensen off guard.  Laughing as he worked to balance his weight, Jensen clamped down and wrestled his friend into the comforter.  “Well,” answered Mish from the bottom, “I suppose it could’ve waited, but there was something else I felt the need to see today.”  
  
“Oh, yeah?  And what was that?” Jensen coaxed, grinding his pelvis and trying for a suggestive smirk.  
  
Wasting no time, Jensen pushed Misha’s shirt down his arms and off the rest of the way, and then went to work on his own clothes, beginning with his boots.  Misha was quickly doing the same thing since getting them both naked as quickly as possible was now taking precedence over their stilted conversation.  
  
Misha stopped with his orange boxers midway down his thighs, cock heavy and full between his legs, looking at Jensen as he were food to devour.  
  
“I had this voracious fascination with the idea of you riding that mechanical bull.”  Misha pulled his shorts the rest of the way down and off and grabbed Jensen’s hand, tugging Jensen back down to straddle him as he lay back down on the bed.  “I couldn’t get the picture out of my head.  It was so vivid!  You in that saddle, bow legs wrapped around the bull, bucking and rolling, your arm in the air accentuating the lines of your body moving in tandem with your hips.”  Misha was gripping Jensen’s waist, grinding his hardness up into Jensen’s groin as he circled his lower body, lost in his description.  “I had to see for myself what that would look like.”  
  
Jensen’s breath caught on a moan as he managed to stutter out a response.  “And, what did it look like, Mish?”  
  
“Oh, Jen, you have no idea.  I was so hard it was all I could do not to touch myself while I was standing there watching you.  You were beautiful.  All grace and hard lines.  I had to leave for a few minutes just to settle myself down, and then I came back just as you were finished and you fell backwards, all flushed and breathing like you’d just experienced euphoria and I had to get out of there before I embarrassed myself.”  
  
“And now?” Jensen encouraged, finding a rhythm just like on the bull, their cocks sliding together with sweat and pre-come.  
  
“Now, I want you to ride me like you rode that bull, baby!”  
  
“Fuck, yes!” Jensen growled leaning down to claim Misha’s mouth in a heated kiss.  They broke apart long enough for Misha to shove his hand under the pillow and feel around for the bottle of lube he knew Jensen kept there.  
  
Misha didn’t waste any time popping open the bottle and coating his fingers.  Jensen was momentarily taken aback by the feeling of intrusion as the first finger breached him.  It always gave him this instant feeling of ‘his’ that he’d never experienced with anyone but Misha.  It grounded him instantly and he rocked with it, eagerly pushing for more.   
  
Of course, Misha didn’t deny him.  In an almost embarrassingly short time, he was writhing, begging against Misha’s solid chest.  
  
“Need to feel you, Mishka.  Let me ride that beautiful cock.”  
  
“Yes, baby. Yes.”  Misha whined, withdrawing his fingers slowly and wiping them on the comforter.  He grabbed the lube bottle and Jensen watched with eager fixation as he poured out enough to slick up his dick and grab it at the base to hold it in position.  Jensen lifted his hips and slowly impaled himself on Misha’s erection, feeling every inch of himself open him up to allow his joining with this beautiful, passionate, loving man.  Once he was fully seated, he stilled for a moment, gazing down into the deep blue eyes of his lover.  Misha appeared as wrecked as he was, barely holding back.  This was going to be over fast so he had every intention of making it good.  He leaned down to whisper softly in Misha’s ear, breath ghosting softly, just enough to tickle slightly.  
  
“Fuck me, Dmitri.”  
  
That’s all it took.  Misha planted his feet flat on the bed for traction and thrust, bucking his hips and snapping up in one fluid motion.  He set a brutal pace and Jensen wailed as he felt every nerve ending sing in anticipation.  His thighs were burning from exhaustion but he didn’t care.  All that mattered was this connection, this need to be filled and owned by the man he loved.  
  
Misha was clearly giving it all he had and Jensen was right there with him.  As they found a rhythm, Misha smirked and locked blue eyes with green.  
  
“Aloha, Cowboy!  Ride me!” Misha challenged, and fuck, if that wasn’t all kinds of hot.  Jensen clamped his thighs, threw his hand in the air and literally whooped as Misha wrapped his long fingers around his red, swollen cock and with one good tug, had him pulsing all over both of them.  Misha followed seconds after with a cry, riding out the aftershocks with gentle rolls of his hips.  
  
Jensen slumped down, heedless of the mess and drew Misha in for a languid kiss, feeling a little empty as Misha’s softening cock slipped out of him.  
  
“Um, wow.  That was really something,” he murmured against Misha’s neck, cozying against his friend and tugging the comforter up around them.  Now that they were stationary, the air was starting to feel cool against his naked skin.  
  
Misha chuckled.  “It was pretty amazing, love.  I think I could get used to having my own personal cowboy.”  
  
“Well you definitely got the more R-rated version than the general public,” Jensen grinned.  
  
“Oh, I think you knew what you were doing when you tipped backwards at the end of that ride.  Do you know how many fan fantasies you probably fulfilled with that one move?”  
  
Jensen tipped his head back and laughed.  “Gotta give them a few crumbs here and there, Mish.  You know how it is.  Besides, you get the real thing.  Your fantasy has been fulfilled.”  
  
A salacious grin crossed Misha’s face at that.  “Well not quite.”  
  
Jensen raised a worried eyebrow in question and Misha smiled.  “Next time I want boots, chaps, and a hat.”  
  
Jensen snuggled into Misha’s arms and snickered.  “We’ll see, Mish.  We’ll see.”


End file.
